Nothing
interrupted the stillness of the scene but the noise of the balls,
which, whenever they were rolled, echoed along the mountains like
rumbling peals of thunder.
As Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly desisted
from their play, and stared at him with such fixed statue-like gaze,
and such strange, uncouth, lack-lustre countenances, that his heart
turned within him, and his knees smote together. His companion now
emptied the contents of the keg into large flagons, and made signs
to him to wait upon the company. He obeyed with fear and trembling;
they quaffed the liquor in profound silence, and then returned to
their game.
By degrees Rip's awe and apprehension subsided. He even ventured,
when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he
found had much of the flavor of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a
thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste
provoked another; and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so
often that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his
head, his head gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep.
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